


Better Left Unsaid

by Nimbus_Cloud



Category: Haikyuu!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 19:17:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13619961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimbus_Cloud/pseuds/Nimbus_Cloud
Summary: My ficlet for the Nekoma Zine~Fukunaga Shouhei, wing spiker.  Great receive technique and skilled at manipulating the ball’s trajectory when spiking.  The quiet but dependable regular of Nekoma meets...?





	Better Left Unsaid

“Do you get the feeling that this year is gonna be different?” 

 

Yamamoto mused as he and Fukunaga set up the net across the gym.  He tossed Fukunaga the end of the net he pulled out of the storage bin, and in response to Fukunaga’s questioning look, he clarified, “I mean like,  _ really  _ different.  Like… this-year’s-gonna-be-really-really- _ awesome  _ different.”

 

Fukunaga pondered the idea as he walked across the floor to tie up his side to the pole.  As far as descriptions went, it was an oddly specific definition of the word, ‘different’ and yet extremely vague as to what constituted ‘awesome.’  Playing high school volleyball, it went without saying that every year would be different—sometimes team compositions changed so drastically, a school’s play-style could be something else altogether.  Very rarely, a star-player could be added to the mix and provide a much-needed edge to a championship-hopeful team.  The now-second-year glanced at the recently-added first-years as they brought out the volleyball bins and scoreboard.  

 

Shibayama was timid, but eager to learn all he could from his senior libero, Yaku.  Inuoka was energetic and bright; remarkably fast but otherwise unremarkable.  Lev was… Suffice it to say, Nekoma had received no such genius players this year.  

 

Yet as he and Yamamoto pulled the net taut between them and tied it in place, his eyes fell on Kenma quietly talking with Kuroo, their new captain, and began to feel some of the…  _ difference _ now that last year’s seniors had gone.  The lack of hazing was hard to miss. 

 

Looking across the net to Yamamoto, he gave a silent thumbs-up.  

 

“Ah, shit!” the ace suddenly smacked his forehead.  “I left something back in the club room—a lucky charm… thing.  Fukunaga, can you go get it for me, and I’ll finish here with the net?  It should be on the bench.  I’m pretty sure I pulled it out of my bag at least.”

 

Fukunaga tilted his head ever-so-slightly to one side, intrigued.  Yamamoto had never seemed the superstitious type.  Loud and brash and idiotic… but not superstitious.  

 

“It’s our fourth practice match since school started!  And I’m the ace now with the number four jersey and stuff—and Kuroo-san yelled at me for being late to practice yesterday, so... I feel like I probably shouldn’t leave the gym.  But I need that charm.”

 

“...” Fukunaga said.

 

“You’re a pal, Fukunaga!”  With a barking laugh, he clapped his teammate’s back and hurried him along.  “But seriously, you need to talk more.”

 

Truthfully, Fukunaga did want to put in the effort to speak, a mumble maybe even a murmur, but Yamamoto rarely let him get a word in.  And if he really didn’t need to speak to be understood…

 

He stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of a girl meandering around the track field, eyes scanning every which way, half searching and half mesmerized.  At first glance, she looked to be a middle school student… Most likely a younger sibling of an attending student here.  That wasn’t such a strange sight… on an actual  _ school day _ , but it was a Sunday and the only reason he was at school was for a practice match Nekoma was hosting.  When the mysterious girl began stamping her feet in frustration—clearly lost—Fukunaga made his way over to offer what assistance he could.  Maybe he could try out his vocal chords with her in his attempts to be a good samaritan.  

 

He’d only just started his trek when she turned suddenly and made eye contact, gasping loudly and closing the distance between them with lightning speed.  Then she shrilled a sudden,

 

“You’re Fukunaga Shouhei!”

 

Last he checked,  _ he  _ didn’t have any younger sisters—or fans—so he was a bit baffled as to how the girl knew his name.

 

“Wing spiker!  Great receive technique and skilled at manipulating the ball’s trajectory when spiking!  Quiet, but dependable player number eleven!”

 

A small furrow between his eyebrows seemed to set her aback, and she shook her head, waving her hands frantically as she corrected herself.  “Ah!  Sorry!  Eleven was your jersey number from last year!  Of course, you and my brother are second-years now!”

 

Upon closer inspection, the small girl with the fluffy, bleached pigtails and sharp eyebrows bore a striking resemblance to…

 

“...Yamamoto,” he murmured.

 

“Yamamoto Akane!” she cheered, bowing her head quickly as the concept of manners returned to her excitement-addled brain.  

 

As she tucked a stray strand of hair behind one ear, Fukunaga took note of the tiger hairpin she wore.  For her brother, no doubt.  

 

“Since this is Nekoma’s first practice match at home in the new school year… and since my brother is now the ace!  I… I wanted to come see him play!  And cheer on all of Nekoma, of course!”

 

It was then that she pulled out a small cheerleading cone from her bag—red, onto which she had scrawled N E K O M A on one side in bubbly English letters.  

 

“Anyway, why aren’t you in the gym?  Did you forget something?”

 

Fukunaga shook his head and pointed to Akane, about to explain her brother’s newfound belief in lucky talismans when she cut him off instead, fuming.  

 

“It was Tora-nii, wasn’t it?  He forgot the charm I gave him, didn’t he?!  Even though I came all this way to cheer for him as a surprise—and the team.  Of course I’m also here for the team.  Well!  I’m here now, and I’m even better than some silly trinket!”

 

_ Even though you gave him that trinket?   _ Now Fukunaga was simply curious to know what the good luck charm even was.  

 

“But as punishment, I won’t cheer for him today.  Not even once.  Even if he does something really cool!”

 

Really, the resemblance between the two was uncanny.  As if the two shared the same brain (and understanding of him), even Akane could fill the gaps in his silence and hold a conversation essentially on her own.  Siblings were incredible.  Less than five minutes he’d known her, and it reminded him of an entire year spent with Tora.  But he’d managed to say her name at one point, and that was one word more than he could usually squeeze into any conversation with his teammate.

 

“Wow, you’re… you’re really as quiet as my brother says,” she seemed to realize.  “I can see why he wants you to talk more.”

 

And as siblings, even Akane had something to say about his silences.  Scratching his head, Fukunaga turned, gesturing for Akane to follow though she didn’t require much direction.  He supposed she’d given him permission (of sorts) to not go looking for her brother’s good luck charm anymore, and he’d feel a bit awkward leading her to the team club room, which wasn’t always the neatest or the best-smelling.  The sooner he got her to Yamamoto—the older one—the better.  

 

Upon entering the gym, Kenma caught sight of them first as the rest of the team was warming up around the court.  The silent staaaare directed his way translated very clearly to, _ ‘...who is that?’ _

 

In reply, Fukunaga directed his own gaze across the gym to where their mohawked classmate stood.  Kenma followed his gaze across to Tora, then back to Akane—who was marvelling at everything in the gym like a child in a candy store—then back to Tora, then back to Akane… Finally, he looked to Fukunaga again with an eyebrow raise that read as,  _ ‘...really??’ _

 

Fukunaga shrugged just as Akane found and called out to Tora, leaving his side to run over to her brother and at last drawing the attention of the entire gymnasium.  

 

“What are you doing here?!” Tora shrieked as the other players paused their warm-ups to openly gawk or inch a little closer. 

 

The coaches didn’t seem to mind the sudden distraction, and Akane was now mindful enough to greet them first.  She made her introduction with a low bow and what Fukunaga suspected was her sweetest smile.  She even bothered to make a formal introduction to Kuroo as he was, after all, the team captain.  With a demure voice, she thanked him for tolerating her wild older brother and his troublesome outbursts.  

 

“How did you manage to keep her a secret this long?” Kuroo laughed as Tora flushed beet red to match his uniform.  

 

“Well here’s  _ one  _ girl who’ll always cheer for you, Yamamoto!” Yaku teased.  

 

“Oh, not just him!  I’m here to cheer for  _ all  _ of Nekoma!  Please consider me your official cheering squad!”  Akane pulled out her cheering cone from before, brandishing it like a sword.

 

“We already have a cheering squad for games, stupid!” Tora groaned, grabbing his baby sister by the shoulders and steering her toward the viewing bleachers.  The remaining vestiges of his dignity  _ needed  _ her away from the team.   

 

“Yeah, but I’m going to lead them now!” 

 

“Whatever!!  Anyway, we’re warming up and you’re in the way so just… sit quietly over here!”

 

“Good luck today everyone!” she cheered over her shoulder, managing a small wave directed at Fukunaga despite her brother.

 

Fukunaga returned the wave with a muted one of his own, and Kenma made his way over to him with an amused gleam in his eye.  

 

“So you have a fan,” he commented, eyes hunting for a reaction.

 

Fukunaga narrowed his eyes at the setter, doubtful. 

 

“Rather, I guess  _ we  _ have a new… cheerleader or something,” Kenma corrected himself, shrugging.  “Why do you think she’s made the trouble all of a sudden?”

 

Fukunaga held up four fingers with his right hand, and Kenma nodded in understanding.  

 

“Right.  Her brother’s the ace now.  Makes sense.” 

 

“I keep telling her it’s just a practice match… what team brings a cheering squad to a practice match?  Guh, this is so embarrassing…” Yamamoto was grumbling to himself as he approached them, ears still tinged pink.  

 

Kenma directed a knowing look to Fukunaga, who then directed it to Yamamoto.  The ace punched Fukunaga lightly on one arm, scoffing, “Don’t say it, Fukunaga!”  

 

“If Yamamoto-san is allowed to bring his sister, can I bring mine too?” Lev chimed in suddenly.

 

“Another one of  _ you _ ?” Yaku looked like he was going to be sick.  

 

“She’s older—college student.  She’s reeeeal pretty though.  If I brought Alisa to cheer with Akane, we’d have both beautiful  _ and  _ cute!”

 

“Hey!  That’s my baby sister you’re eyeing!” Yamamoto whirled on Lev, blazing.  

 

“Ah—I’m sorry, Yamamoto-san!” Lev offered a bright, utterly clueless smile.  “I didn’t realize you had a sister complex!”

 

A volleyball was suddenly spiked between the two before the situation could escalate (and it most certainly would have), and several heads turned to look at their stern captain.  

 

Poised with another ball in his hand, Kuroo barked at the entire gym.  “Back to warm-ups!  Our guest team will be arriving any minute!” 

 

As everyone scattered fearfully, Fukunaga’s eyes drifted back to the bleachers where Akane stood at the ready, having now pulled out a pen and notebook from her bag.  She looked immensely focused as she scribbled furiously away.  Strangely, it made Fukunaga want to play just a little bit harder for today’s match.

 

* * *

 

“Man, you had some game-saving plays today, Fukunaga!”  Yamamoto commented after the match, ripping his jersey off with a flourish.  

 

“Maybe he was feeling some extra motivation today?” Kenma’s question could have been a simple, innocent inquiry, if it weren’t for those slightly raised eyebrows of his.  They implied volumes in their miniscule elevation.

 

Fukunaga gave a nonchalant shrug, and Yamamoto bumped his shoulder with his own.

 

“Come  _ onnn _ !  When you play a good game, you’re supposed to get a little more worked up than that!  Let out a victory yell or  _ something _ !!” 

 

“You know that’s not his style,” Kenma mumbled, his finger plugged into the ear closest to Yamamoto.  “Fukunaga is the strong, silent type.  Like a  _ real  _ ace.”

 

“Who says?!  Even my sister agrees that—”

 

“You should hurry and change if she’s still waiting outside, Yamamoto!” Kuroo called from the other side of the club room.  

 

“Ah, she’s headed over to a friend’s house, so she’s already gone!” Yamamoto then added sheepishly, “...and I’m sorry for the commotion she caused today, everyone.  I’ll make sure she doesn’t cause a scene like that again.”

 

“Honestly, it was a fun change of pace!” Yaku grinned.  

 

“She really wasn’t what I would call a disturbance,” Kai added.

 

“Not like her brother,” Kenma quipped over his shoulder as he pulled on his hoodie.  He shot a look at Fukunaga, who returned a clipped nod.

 

“Gee, tell me how you  _ really  _ feel, Fukunaga…” Yamamoto whined.  

 

“Probably better left unsaid,” Kenma allowed himself a little grin, hiding his face.

 

Between his seemingly-mind-reading teammates, Fukunaga sometimes wondered if there was anything that was better said  _ aloud.   _ Was there truly a need for him—as they said—to ‘talk more?’ 

 

“What did you think of Akane-chan though?” Lev cut in.  “You brought her to the gym, so didn’t you get a chance to talk to her?”  

 

After the game, Yamamoto had forbidden Akane from hanging around to bother the rest of the team (though she had protested), and she had been hurriedly shoved out of the gym and away before anyone could argue.

 

“Fukunaga-san?” 

 

Suddenly, all eyes in the club room were locked on their quietest team member, their unusual silence mirroring his usual one as they waited for his reply.  Fukunaga turned to look at Kenma and Yamamoto, who stood staring at him expectantly along with everyone else.  For once, they didn’t immediately know what his answer would be; they weren’t instantly translating for his wordless gestures and nebulous expressions, and they weren’t talking over him or for him in any way.  It occurred to Fukunaga then that the silence wasn’t due to him being magically frozen in time, but more to do with the fact that they—every last one of them—wanted to hear him speak an answer.  They were  _ waiting _ .  And he... he’d need to actually…  _ say  _ something.  What was the question?  His opinion of Akane?

 

“...”

 

No one dared now to even blink.

 

“...cute.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Scream at me about how cute Fukunaga is.
> 
> =======
> 
> Twitter: @Luna_Dreaming  
> Tumblr: nimbus-cloud.tumblr.com


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